Page 89 of In The Trenches (Owens Protective Services)

“Cash,” I mumbled, my eyes opening slowly as I thought I looked up at him. I couldn’t be certain at this point. He looked back at me and swore, catching me just as I fell over. He hoisted me up in his arms, cradling my body gently as he continued on. I stared up at the hard planes of his face, how the stubble along his jaw covered him in a perfect pattern except for one long scar that ran just along his jawline. I would have reached up and touched it, but my arms were too weak, and then everything started to go dark.

* * *

When I woke,the pain was ten times worse than before I passed out. I was no longer staring up at the sky, but instead, looking at the dirty t-shirt Cash wore. Lifting my head slightly, I realized I was somehow latched onto Cash’s back piggyback style. My left arm was in some kind of sling, wrapped tightly to my chest. I wasn’t even holding onto him.

“Where are we?” I asked, my voice coming out strange and warbled.

“About a half mile from town.”

“Town? Home?”

“No,” he chuckled. “I wish, but no.”

“Where are we going?”

“We’re about three miles to a safe house. We’ll stop in town for supplies and then head out there until I can contact my team.”

“Three miles,” I muttered against his back. “That feels like a lifetime.”

“I know. Just hang in there. You’re doing great.”

I snorted at that. “I’m literally hanging off your back. I’m not doing great at anything.”

I winced as he shifted me on his back, but didn’t make a sound. He was doing all the work, after all. “How about another injection? That felt nice.”

“That’s not a good idea.”

“Why not? You like toting me around?”

I thought I saw his lips pull up in a smile as he glanced over his shoulder. “Let’s say I like you a lot more alive than braindead.”

“Braindead,” I repeated. At this point, I wasn’t sure that was a bad idea. The peace of knowing all this running was over was quite appealing. On the other hand, I wanted to see Fox again and tell him thanks for saving my ass. “What about just a small shot? Like a mini one.”

He sighed, stopping and getting down on his knees. He untied something, and then I was loose from his back, though still leaning heavily against him. He turned to me, his eyes looking over me. I must have looked bad based on the grimace on his face.

“You need some ice. Your cheek is swelling up.”

“This is what I always look like,” I teased. He winced as he sat down, and that was when I noticed the large red stain on his shirt. Forgetting my own pain, I leaned forward and yanked his shirt up, gasping when I saw the blood drying on him. There was a lot, way more than should be there.

“Did you get shot?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Hazard of the job.”

“Yeah, but aren’t you trained to dodge those things, or something?”

“Dodge them? No. Besides, this is just a scratch.”

“That,” I pointed at his stomach, “is not a scratch. It’s a hole, with a bullet inside.”

“It was a through and through.”

“And that means what? It went thorough your body and then through another part?”

He gave me a tired smile, leaning his head back against a tree. “It means it went in one side and out the other.”

“You have two of those?” I shrieked.

He grabbed my hand, instantly soothing me. “I’m fine. I’m mostly tired from carrying your heavy ass around.”

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